


Love By Any Other Name

by Alley_Skywalker



Category: Sibirskiy tsiryulnik | The Barber of Siberia (1998)
Genre: M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 07:23:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11664345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alley_Skywalker/pseuds/Alley_Skywalker
Summary: They're both a little ashamed of themselves, afterward.





	Love By Any Other Name

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nabielka](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nabielka/gifts).



There’s a part of Polievsky that wants to go see Andrei after the duel. They are kept well-informed of his recovery and the others go to see him a couple of days after the entire thing happens but Polievsky comes up with some story about why he cannot go and slinks off, away from facing Andrei. Or perhaps his own feelings. 

He isn’t really certain what it is that keeps him away. Perhaps it’s shame or guilt. Perhaps its fear that Andrei really was serious about this whole thing and has no intention of letting it go. _That doesn’t sound like him at all,_ he thinks morosely, getting through some well-overdue chores. He’s afraid that he’s ruined everything in his Onegin-esque prank on Tolstoy’s overly fragile sense of honor. But what is he supposed to say? _That I’m sorry?_ He’s never been good at apologizing. 

Really, Andrei had a part to play in all this. How long had he known Jane—five minutes? Ten? 

He’s angry with himself, with Andrei, with that strange, foreign thing inside him that he likes to call envy but is likely something far more sinister. If he is to be honest. Polievsky has nothing to be _envious_ of. He’s liked girls before – and really, liking women is a curse more so than something to be envious of. And girls have _certainly_ always liked him. Not just for the money or the title but—he’s perfectly aware that he’s good looking and eloquent in conversation and not unintelligent. _Also, not particularly humble._

He’s not envious. Though that is exactly what he will tell Jane later. 

He’s _jealous._

 __And it’s the most embarrassing and frightening thing that has ever happened to him.

*~*

“You should go see him,” Nazarov tells him seriously before fencing practice. 

Polievsky doesn’t deign that with an answer which earns him a frustrated, mumbled expletive.

“He thinks you’re angry with him.”

“Did he tell you that?”

“It’s Tolstoy, of course he didn’t.” A pause. “But we could tell.” 

Polievsky smirks and pulls on his fencing gloves.

“Do you know he wants to leave the academy.” 

This gets his attention. 

Nazarov, picking up on the cue, goes on in a hurried half-whisper. “You’re the only one who can convince him to stay—“

“Doubtful. I’ve never been able to convince Tolstoy to not do anything he’s already set him mind to. Neither has anyone else.” 

“You avoiding him doesn’t help the situation.”

“Let’s talk about it after practice,” Polievsky says, picking up his rapier. He has no intention of doing anything of the sort. 

Polievsky likes fencing. He’s quite good at it too. (Which is another reason why Andrei is an idiot.) But he can’t stop thinking about Nazarov’s words. The academy would never be the same without Andrei. And it’s stupid for him to throw his life away like that. And for what? Because he has realized the duel was a foolish idea? Because he wants to punish himself for some failing he subconsciously made up and branded himself with? There is no practical reason for him to leave; no rule of honor, in the regular sense, that would compel him to. But of course… _Since when does Andrei need a good reason to do anything?_

As practice starts, the clanging of metal fills his ears. The quick movements of his opponent and the other pairs around them blur reality a little. Suddenly all he can think about is that stupid duel. The adrenaline that had pushed him on and on with every thrust, easily overriding the otherwise debilitating fear of what would happen once one of them made a mistake. He can’t think of anything but the dizziness at suddenly not feeling the jolt of blade against blade but a thick softness at the tip and the tilt in his balance as the blade found its target and pierced it through. And the blood—

His rapier goes flying from his hand and lands a meter away with a deafening clang. Alibekov, who is bartnering him, stares in wild disbelief. No one, except for maybe Nazarov, had ever been able to beat Polievsky in fencing practice. Certainly not short, slight Misha Alibekov. “Oh wow,” Alibekov mouths in awe. 

“Well done.” Polievsky says absently. He picks up the sword, goes to find their instructor, pleads off as ill and slips out into the hallway. He still doesn’t _really_ want to see Andrei, but he has to do _something_ before everything falls apart in his own life as well. 

*~*

They can’t get past hello without falling into an awkward, drawn out pause. Exactly the kind that Polievsky typically feels a compulsive need to fill. He doesn’t really know how to do that with Andrei though – their silences had never been awkward before. 

Finally, Polievsky decides to at least make it across the room. He pulls up a chair and sits down, attempts eye contact, and inevitably fails. “How are you?”

“Alright. Fine.” 

“Nazarov told me you plan to leave the academy,” he blurts out and instantly regrets touching that subject without any lead up.

Andrei just looks at him. 

“Damn it all, Tolstoy, why?”

Andrei gives an instinctive shrug and winces at the jolt of pain it sends through his shoulder. Polievsky forces himself to stay very still as to not do anything foolish. 

“What purpose would leaving serve?” He lowers his voice. “Is it because of the duel? What explanation are you going to give officially?” They had had to concoct a story about a practice accident. Polievsky had had to repeat it several times. It had to be him, primarily because the teachers and school officials instinctively trust him. Perhaps it is his good grades, perhaps his family’s connections in society, perhaps both. As it were, he’d said it often enough to almost believe the story himself sometimes, at least while telling it. 

“I’m not giving a reason. It’s nobody’s business.”

Polievsky scoffs. 

Andrei looks away. “You shouldn’t have come.”

It feels like a slap and Polievsky drops all pretense of confidence. He stares at his hands for a while – he hadn’t prepared properly for what he ought to say before going to the hospital ward. He’s not usually impulsive, but Andrei is a bad influence. He finally settles on, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have goaded you the way I did. I…underestimated your feelings on the matter.” _Or perhaps overestimated the extent of our friendship._

 __Something unreadable flicks over Andrei’s face. “Do you mean that?”

“Yes?”

Andrei closes his eyes and seems to be struggling for something to say. “She’s important to me. She’s really quite extraordinary.”

“Yes.” Polievsky echoes. He’s not sure what he expected to hear, but apparently this wasn’t it. “Will you forgive me?”

Andrei looks at him and nods, then smiles tentatively in that uncertain way he has. “If you’ll forgive me for trying to kill you over some words. It’s not like I don’t know that you’re a twat.”

Polievsky is relieved enough to laugh at that. 

“Come here,” Andrei says suddenly, holding out a hand. At Polievsky’s hesitation he gives an emphatic nod. “Come.”

Polievsky abandons the chair in favor of sitting on the edge of Andrei’s bed and instinctively takes his hand. Andrei doesn’t snatch it back and they sit there for a quiet moment, fingers intertwined. 

“I’m not leaving because of you,” Andrei says. 

“I figured that.”

“No, I mean…what I mean—I simply…I only joined the academy to make my mother proud. And I was thinking the other night…how proud would she be if I was dead? Or sent to Siberia for murder. I wanted to defend the honor of the woman I l—“ Polievsky tenses, unconsciously biting the inside of his lip. “Of a woman,” Andrei finishes awkwardly, flushing. “And all I succeeded in doing was making a fool of myself.”

“You didn’t—“

“I wasn’t trying to hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“I _know_.” It’s a relief to hear it anyway. 

“She’s probably forgotten all about me but you’re here and…” He looks over at Polievsky in that odd, stubborn way of his. Andrei always has that look when he’s lost or knows he’s wrong about something but is too stubborn to admit it. 

“Leaving the academy won’t make it better. You can still make your mother proud by graduating and there will be plenty more women whose honor you can defend.”

“With you around, I don’t doubt it.” They smile at each other and Polievsky feels the tight ball of nerves in his chest ease slightly. It’s a nauseating warmth that spreads through his chest – both relief and shame. 

“Sometimes I think,” Andrei continues, an uncharacteristic storm of frankness uninhibited by pride apparently taking over him. “That I joined for my mother but stayed because of you.”

“Oh?” Polievsky tries for a smirk to cover up anything else he might be feeling. 

Andrei, seemingly forgetting himself, tries to use his bad arm to swat Polievsky in playful protest and winces at the sharp pain that shoots through his shoulder. Polievsky squeezes his hand and murmurs, “Careful.” 

‘I suppose I felt as strongly as I did,” Andrei continues as though nothing had happened, but apparently shifting angles in what he meant to say, “because despite all of our pranks and teasing and you being a prat—you always knew where my limit was. You never touched the things I held sacred before.” There is an unspoken _why did you do it?_ in there and they both know it. 

Eye contact is once again impossible. Polievsky looks at their hands instead. “Jane is your first one…It’s the first time for you but it’s…this is the first time for me too.” He looks up slowly, cautiously. Andrei is looking at him with something akin to disbelief or maybe surprise. 

Voices outside, approaching quickly, make Andrei mouth, “It’s time for my medicine…” But he’s looking straight into Polievsky’s face, clearly not thinking about the doctor and nurses, apparently still processing the meaning of his friend’s words. 

Polievsky stands up, but Andrei keeps a firm hold on his hand. “I’ll go.” He smiles and leans down, placing a soft kiss on the corner of Andrei’s mouth. Andrei turns into it, returns it carefully, clearly still stunned but unwilling to let him go. Polievsky pulls back and extracts his hand from Andrei’s. “Well, if I’m no longer a good enough reason for you to stay at the academy, I will find one that is,” he says as a doctor walks through the door. 

“Wait,” Andrei mouths. 

Polievsky gives him a smile and walks away, thinking that he is rather sure that he’d seen Andrei’s lips quirk up in a smile when they kissed.


End file.
